One kid regarded me thoughtfully and said, “You should make that your normal, Mrs. Poinker. It looks good on you.”One kid looked petrified and started firing at me with an imaginary machine gun as if he had come face to face with the queen of the zombie hive of the apocalypse.

To be honest, I only kept the wig on for fifteen minutes and that was only to impress upon the parents who attended morning assembly that I was a bit of a good sport… and also to keep my ears warm in the bitter cold.

When I arrived home from work, Scotto asked me how the wearing of the wig went. After half-heartedly listening to my reply, he then disappeared for a few minutes into the depths of our bedroom.

I gasped in horror when he reappeared around the corner of our bedroom sporting the three foot long black wig looking like Mortcia in drag.

“I’d better not catch you dressed up in that wig and togged up in my undies!” I shrieked in alarm.

He shrugged and grinned.

I worry about Scotto sometimes.

I like the end of term because we do fun things like athletics carnivals.

When I say fun things, I mean fun things for the kids.

Athletics day feels like the Education Minister has just slammed teachers in the kidneys with a cricket bat. Standing up from 9:00 am until 3:oopm in the hot sun and playing an unending game of Whack a Mole and Herding Cats in an attempt to control multitudes of blue and yellow, zinc sunscreened feral kids… well… that’s a recipe for a grand mal seizure if there ever was one.

But today is the end of term and all is good.

I have three things to look forward to.

Pretty much my entire school teaching mob are coming to my house for lunch on Tuesday for a champagne lunch (note to self: under no circumstance get pissed and reveal true nature and also don't forget to clean dog slobbered back window), I am going to Sydney on a whirlwind trip with my eldest son AND I am returning to my home town to visit my adorable but demanding children for the first time in eighteen months.

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